


Consequences

by REMSleep (radianterin)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Garak has PTSD, M/M, Pre-Slash, Screenwriters: when will you learn, Star Trek is the worst about showing us how characters deal with all the bullshit they go through, Suicidal Ideation, so does Julian but this isn't about him right now, that your actions have consequences, they kind of start a relationship but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radianterin/pseuds/REMSleep
Summary: “Computer, locate Elim Garak.”“Elim Garak is in his quarters.”“Has he left his quarters today?”“Negative.”“When was the last time he left?”“43 hours, 17 minutes ago.”Shit.-----There have to be consequences for all of the trauma that Garak goes through in S5 and early S6 in DS9. This is my way of dealing with it.





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> This is decidedly OOC, but let me have my moment.

Forty-seven days. It had been forty-seven days since they’d last had anything resembling a conversation. Forty-seven days ago they’d been in sickbay on the Defiant when Julian told Garak he didn’t have time for any more pointless interruptions or idle conversations.

With a sense of normalcy returning to the station, they still hadn’t seen each other. After hearing of Ziyal’s death, Julian had rushed to the infirmary as quickly as he could, but he had already missed Garak. Since then Julian couldn’t even remember passing him on the promenade, or seeing him anywhere else for that matter. They may as well have been on different planets.

Julian missed his friend. Garak’s presence had become a welcome addition to his life over the years, and being deprived of it was eating away at him in a way he didn’t quite understand. Maybe he wasn’t ready to understand. But he knew he needed to see Garak again, and try to repair whatever damage had been done to their friendship.

His shift was almost over. “Computer, locate Elim Garak.” 

“Elim Garak is in his quarters.”

“Has he left his quarters today?”

“Negative.”

“When was the last time he left?”

“43 hours, 17 minutes ago.”

Shit.

Julian scrubbed his hands over his face and decided that his shift ended now. He stopped by his quarters on his way to Garak’s for a change of clothes. This wasn’t a professional visit, and showing up in uniform would only make him defensive.

Keeping up pretenses was important to Garak, so Julian did him the courtesy of at least trying the door chime. No response after one, two, three attempts. His head thumped against the doorframe. 

“Garak, I know you’re in there.” 

Ten seconds passed with no response. 

“I’m coming in.” 

He typed in his medical override code and stepped inside to near blackness. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he surveyed what parts of Garak’s quarters he could see. Nothing seemed amiss, but Garak was nowhere in sight.

“Garak? It’s me,” he called out, voice audible but non-threatening. Maybe Garak truly hadn’t heard the door, and hadn’t heard him just then. It seemed unlikely, but Julian knew to tread carefully, because a startled Garak was a dangerous one. After poking his head into an empty bathroom, he grew slightly unsettled after finding some of Garak’s clothes strewn about the floor in a haphazard path leading to the bedroom. Surely he didn’t have someone in here…? 

“Computer,” Julian whispered. “Life signs in these quarters.” 

“Two life signs, one human, one Cardassian. ”

So, that ruled out visitors, and Garak was here. But it certainly wasn’t like him to show such disregard for his clothing, which was of his own making as far as Julian could tell, carefully embroidered and constructed out of beautiful fabrics. Julian gathered up the garments as he made his way to the bedroom, making sure his footfalls were deliberate. He had them folded neatly into a pile when he passed through the door. 

Garak seemed to be asleep in his bed, huddled up under a large blanket with one foot sticking out the end. Had Julian not been so concerned, he might have called the whole scene cute. He set the pile of clothes down on a nearby chair when an empty bottle of kanar on the nightstand caught his eye.

“Julian?” 

His heart fluttered oddly at the use of his first name. He wheeled around to find Garak’s eyes peering out over the top of the blanket, looking dazed. 

“What’re you doing…?”

“I just came to see you, Garak,” Julian said, suddenly embarrassed having been caught sneaking into Garak’s bedroom in the middle of the night. “It’s…been a while.”

Garak nodded solemnly and closed his eyes again. 

Julian glanced at the bottle and frowned. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Hmm. A lot.”

He’d figured as much. Garak’s usual prim and proper demeanor was nowhere to be found, and no way in hell would anyone have made it this far into his quarters without opposition if he were sober. “When’s the last time you had a shower and something to eat?” 

Garak’s eye ridges shot up for a moment and he shrugged, eyes still closed. 

Julian let out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, counting a few silent seconds to himself. It was obvious that Garak was struggling, and a lecture wouldn’t help right now.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, starting to tug at the blanket, “I’ll run you a shower.”

“It’s cold!” Garak protested loudly, huddling up even further in his cocoon. “Don’t uncover me.”

“You can keep it with you, c’mon, sit up,” he tried again, tugging at what he assumed to be Garak’s arm under the cover. Surprisingly, he didn’t resist and let himself be dragged into a sitting position, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. The grey skin of his exposed shins and calves stood out in the low light. 

Julian couldn’t help flushing as he glanced back to the folded clothes. “Garak,” he squeaked, “Are you naked under there?”

Garak’s head lolled toward him and he regarded Julian through squinted eyes. “Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose I am.” He made a noise that could only be described as a giggle, and Julian nearly had a heart attack.

He busied himself by rummaging for a set of clean sleeping clothes in the wardrobe at the foot of the bed and brought them to the bathroom, turning on the shower to the real water setting just a few ticks higher than what he would consider comfortable. Coming back to Garak’s side, he laid a hand on his shoulder, earning him a slight jump. So much of Garak’s behavior was concerning him. “Let’s go, the shower’s ready for you.” 

Garak didn’t respond, but stood up willingly with some gentle prompting from Julian. He leaned heavily against Julian’s side on the short trip to the bathroom, his head rolling onto his shoulder for the briefest moment when they reached the door. Julian’s stomach churned. “Can you manage by yourself?” 

Garak snorted, a second foreign sound from him in such a short period of time. “Of course, Doctor.”

“Alright,” Julian replied coolly. “Go on, then. I’ll still be here when you’re finished.”

He settled himself on the couch where he could hear the water running, fiddling with a mug of Tarkalean tea and drinking very little of it. His mind threatened to wander to dangerous places if he didn’t keep it locked down. When he heard the water shut off, he punched in two bowls of Cardassian stew and a glass of rokassa juice to the replicator. Just as he was setting everything down on the table, the bathroom door whooshed open and Garak appeared, hair damp, dressed, and looking decidedly more coherent than before. Julian had never seen him in anything but the stiff, heavy outfits he usually wore. He admired the soft flowing fabric of the sleepwear he’d found in the wardrobe as it moved over the ridges and planes of his body. Garak’s forearms were exposed in the elbow-length sleeves, and Julian tried to recall ever having seen them before. He swallowed hard.

“Would you please join me?” he said, tone light but firm. He knew Garak hadn’t eaten in probably close to a day, and as he got a better look at him with the lights up, it was more likely he hadn’t been eating consistently for much longer.

Garak did so without argument. The blanket he’d entered the bathroom wrapped in was folded neatly over his arm, and he draped it over the back of the couch. He paused to worry his hand over a wrinkle in the fabric before making his way over to the table. Some of his normal fussy demeanor seemed to have returned, but he was still more reserved than usual, and swayed slightly as he walked.

“I sincerely apologize for the state you found me in, Doctor,” he offered, settling into his seat. “It was most unbecoming.”

“It’s not like you were expecting me,” Julian reasoned. “And there’s nothing to apologize for.”

Garak looked up at him then, unconvinced and looking exhausted in a way that Julian knew ran deeper than physically. Nevertheless, he gave Julian a small smile.

“You must have investigated how long I’ve been skulking about my quarters, otherwise I can’t imagine you would have used your medical override code to open the door.”

Julian flushed. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I was worried about you.” He watched Garak take a few spoonfuls of his soup.

“Oh, there’s no need for apologies, Doctor, I’m rather glad you dropped by. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.” He looked up, and the tiniest gleam had returned to his eyes.

Even though he knew the quip was meant to be taken lightly, Julian also knew that there was probably some truth in it. He knew Garak well enough to know when something was truly unsettling him.

They finished the rest of their meal in relative quiet, conversation trailing off as it became apparent that Garak had not been very active since Julian had last spoken to him. It seemed he’d withdrawn from everything, including tailoring and even reading. Julian wondered if his was the first friendly face he’d seen since coming back to DS9. At the moment, Julian wasn’t so much concerned with making conversation as he was with making sure Garak ate, drank, and got some sleep.

When Garak tried to put his half-full glass of rokassa juice back in the replicator, Julian put on his doctor attitude instantly, stepping in front of it to block his path. “You need to finish that, you’ll be dehydrated from all that kanar.”

Garak looked ready to protest, but Julian held up a finger, silencing him. With a grudging look he finished the glass and gave it a dramatic flourish, and only then did Julian step out of the way.

“Satisfied, Doctor?”

Julian smiled. “Quite. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He placed his own bowl and mug into the replicator. When he turned back around to face Garak, the mood had become decidedly more serious again.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Garak murmured. “I must admit, I do feel much better for having seen you.”

Julian could have sworn he saw the Cardassian equivalent of a blush coloring the scales of Garak’s neckridges, even as his expression remained neutral. Something about that maybe Julian’s stomach flip.

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for cooperating with me.”

Silence stretched between them. They both hesitated, avoiding looking at each other. Finally, Julian spoke.

“You need to rest,” he said lowly. He took the folded blanket from the back of the couch and pressed it into Garak’s hands.

Garak kept his impassive expression.

“Please come see me in the infirmary tomorrow. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

He made to leave and was stopped by a hand gripping his elbow. 

“Stay. Please.”

Garak’s eyes were wide and searching when he pivoted to meet them, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. Julian paused for a moment before nodding his assent, not trusting himself to speak. Garak hand dropped from Julian’s arm and he visibly relaxed, and Julian rose his own to rest on the small of Garak’s back, leading him back to the bedroom. They settled themselves into the bed, side by side, before either of them could decide otherwise. 

“Computer, lights.” The room was once again plunged into near blackness as it was when Julian first entered.

Julian had read enough Cardassian literature to know that platonic bed sharing was quite common among friends of any gender, and he didn’t want to cross any lines or trigger Garak’s claustrophobia by making him feel trapped with unwanted contact. Instead, he lay next to Garak for a while, close enough to feel his body next him, but not touching. His breathing pattern was slow and even, but Julian knew he wasn’t asleep. Eventually, he heard small hitches in the pattern, starts and stops that suggested laughter or something else. He turned over on his side and propped himself up on an elbow, examining him.

“Garak?”

Blue eyes were shining in the dark, staring up at the ceiling as tears threatened to spill over. Julian took in a sharp breath.

“I’m so tired, Julian,” Garak whispered, not looking away from the ceiling. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The childlike tone of his voice broke Julian’s heart, and any qualms he had about offering comfort to his friend were whisked away. 

“Elim…”

He reached for him with both arms, gathering him up against his chest. Garak didn’t hesitate to lose himself in the doctor’s embrace, far beyond embarrassment in his desperation for comfort and security. Julian combed his fingers through Garak’s hair as he pressed his forehead into his sternum. Harsh breaths broke their way out of Garak and he shuddered in Julian’s arms. 

Julian made his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

His labored breathing turned into ragged gasps, and his hands fisted in Julian’s shirt. He was still holding back. Julian tightened his hold.

“Let it go,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

“I don’t want to go on, it’s too much,” Garak whimpered, his voice weak. “I want to die, Julian...please help me.”

Without thinking, Julian used his full strength to haul them both upright. He steadied Garak’s head between his hands and forced him to make eye contact. Garak’s eyes were wide and bloodshot, his face a mixture of shock at the sudden movement and deep anguish. Julian ached at the sight.

“Listen to me, Elim. You’ve been through so much…Tain, the internment camp…Ziyal…I was so wrapped up in the war and my own issues that I couldn't see you needed help. I’m so, so sorry.” Guilt washed over Julian in waves as he held Garak’s eyes, seeing the pain there that maybe couldn’t have been eliminated, but at least lessened if he’d just reached out. It shouldn’t have come to this.

“You’re not alone anymore. I’m here, now. Do you understand me?”

Garak screwed his eyes shut, fresh tears tracing down his cheeks. Julian brushed them away with his thumbs and shook him lightly so he opened his eyes. “I said, do you understand me?”

A slight nod. 

Julian surged forward and kissed him. He poured every ounce of love, compassion, and understanding he had into it. He poured years of repressed longing into it as well, knowing then that this was exactly where he was meant to be and who he was meant to be with. Garak responded like a drowning man, clutching at Julian’s shoulders. In a sense, that’s exactly what he was. 

They pulled away from each other and Julian rested his forehead against Garak’s. “I’m here with you tonight. I’ll stay with you as long as you need, even if it means going on leave.”

Garak found his voice again, shaky and uncertain. “You can’t put your life on hold for me…”

“I can, and I will. Just say the word,” Julian said fiercely. He laid them back down into their previous position, making sure the blanket covered them both. Julian still had a hand on Garak’s face, and he traced one eyeridge tenderly before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his chufa.

Garak finally let himself break, and wept openly with his face pressed into Julian’s neck. Julian held him through it all, his arms a protective barrier between Garak and the rest of the universe. He cried for a long while, eventually soothed by Julian’s soft voice in his ear and warm hand smoothing over his back. When he finally fell asleep, Julian kept himself awake long enough to wonder how he was going to handle this in the morning.

He pressed one last kiss to Garak’s temple, stopped the rhythm he’d kept up with his hand, and fell asleep as well. He decided that it really didn’t matter what happened in the morning. They were here now, together, and that was all Julian cared about.


End file.
